Mystical Word is a weekly reflection on the Sunday Gospel reading by L.J. Milone, Director of Faith Formation, Cathedral of St. Matthew the Apostle
Mystical Word is a weekly reflection on the Sunday Gospel reading by L.J. Milone, Director of Faith Formation, Cathedral of St. Matthew the Apostle
The Mysticism of St. Francis of Assisi
In this reflection, we dive into the mysticism of St. Francis of Assisi.
The feast of St. Francis was on October 4. Let us reflect on his spirituality. Francis was born in 1181 in Assisi in central Italy. His father was a rich cloth merchant. He was a party boy, given to flagrantly spending his father’s cash. At one time, he dreamed of being a famous knight. He went to war but was captured. His father had to pay a ransom to secure his release. Once he was back home, Francis fell ill, an experience that raised life-altering questions. As he recovered he gained spiritual interest and awareness. Eventually, he committed himself to repairing the little church of San Damiano after hearing Jesus speak to him from the San Damiano crucifix, “Francis, don’t you see that my house is being destroyed? Go, then, and rebuild it for me.” It would become clear that Francis was meant to rebuild the people of God, not merely a building.
Francis embraced a life of prayer, poverty, and penance. He served lepers by day and retreated to the caves above Assisi at night for prayer. Enchanted by a life free of material possessions, Francis embraced “Lady Poverty.” Soon men came to join him in his gospel-living experiment. They chose to call themselves the little brothers. The Franciscan group grew exponentially over the decades. Toward the end of Francis’s life, the order of friars took a different direction, and Francis, the man who let go of everything, had to let go of his own community too. Francis died in 1225 lying naked on the ground. He lived for God alone in pure freedom and perfect joy.
Francis lived without any possessions. In his Rule for the friars, Francis said they were to live without anything of their own. He means for them to be happy and content in this seemingly very insecure life. In truth, though, they lived a most secure existence, because each was anchored in God—so anchored that they were free from an obsession with possessions, which typically imprisons us and sets us against each other. “The bishop of the city of Assisi, to whom the man of God would frequently go for counsel, receiving him kindly, told him: ‘It seems to me that your life is very rough and hard, especially, in not possessing anything in this world.’ To which the saint said: ‘Lord, if we had possessions, we would need arms for our protection. For disputes and lawsuits usually arise out of them, and, because of this, love of God and neighbor are greatly impeded. Therefore, we do not want to possess anything in this world.’” If we own material goods, we need to protect them through law and through arms. We move into gated communities. We get an alarm system. We pay for insurance. There is an inherent connection between weapons and possessions. Defending our things requires the means to defend them. For Francis this implies we’re attached to our possessions.
Francis knew a secret: the more you possess things, the less you are centered in God. Whether physical things or mental things, the possession obsession leaves little room for God, love, and relationships. In Admonition 11, Francis says, “The servant of God who does not become angry or disturbed at anyone lives correctly without anything of his own.” To be disturbed by another’s behavior or words is to be possessive. When we take offense, we are being possessive of our opinions, our identities, or our way of doing things. Francis does not say we will not feel the offense; we may not have a choice in that regard. Rather, we are not to take offense. When we do react, we get trapped in the cycle: someone offends me, so I offend back. It’s a cycle of misery, for the only happiness we feel is when we abuse another person. True and perfect joy resides in not reacting out of these feelings but in remaining in God’s loving presence.
The ultimate secret for Francis, though, is prayer. He was totally consumed with God. Francis would spend hours in prayer in the caves above Assisi. He also frequently retreated from ministry to spend forty days in contemplation. Francis exhorts us, “Let us desire nothing else, let us want nothing else, let nothing else please us and cause us delight except…the only true God . . . Wherever we are, in every place, at every hour…every day and continually, let all of us…hold in our heart and love, honor, adore, serve, praise and bless…the Most High.” Prayer can happen anywhere and everywhere if we are but open. We can connect with God at any hour of the day if we choose. We can be free of the possession obsession. Then the true and perfect joy of the poor Francis is available to us.